“Uncontrollable truth-telling, hey? Sounds familiar.” Sasha nodded slowly. “It does.” She pulled a few dollars out of her wallet. “Are you up for a fact-finding mission?” “Of the occult variety?” Sasha placed her money on the table. “Yes.” Lyla picked up her napkin and quickly wiped her hands. “Let’s do this!” she cried, slamming her napkin onto the table. She looked down at the crumpled paper ball and frowned. “Possibly with a little less aggression.” “Yes,” Sasha said, looking at the napkin. “Let’s keep this civilized.”
